


Fond

by Chosca



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: they're not exactly a couple um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1845007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chosca/pseuds/Chosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Niall," Harry says. He never needs to shout it.</p><p>---</p><p>Niall and Harry share an intimate moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fond

**Author's Note:**

> I have a feeling this has actually happened before, or something along these lines, hah. I recounted what I thought might actually happen between them. My writing's little different this time, more brief. It's more about the visualizing for this one.  
> Please leave feedback, opinions, comments. <3  
> Thankyou for reading!

"Niall," Harry says. He never needs to shout it.

  
He's up against the couch on the floor, half sitting half lying down with his knees up. Hair messy (per usual), wrapped in an olive and white coloured headscarf. It's still there because he's tired. The very same goes for the tight pants and the patterned, unbuttoned shirt.

  
Niall walks over from where he had been by the bunk, a soft questioning noise falls from his lips. He doesn't want to use his voice, not really. Not until tomorrow, when he has to.  
Harry beckons him over, and when Niall is close enough he extends an arm and takes his hand, pulling him.

  
Once Niall's standing over him, Harry puts his hands on Niall's small calves and tells him to sit down on his stomach _gently please_. Niall _does_ sit but of course his backside lands rather quickly down on Harry instead, and Harry goes 'oorfgh!'. Niall laughs, nose crinkling in amusement. Legs either side.

  
"What?" asks Niall.

  
Harry presses his hand flat against Niall's, slotting his fingers in between his. He does the same with the other hand, all fingers linked but not folded, sharing heat. They look at each other, not smiling, not sad, not angry. Content in each others presence.

  
Niall takes his precious time leaning in. They're reading one another's expressions, digging into the depths of the colours in their eyes like they have some sort of meaning, sucking their own bottom lips in underneath their front teeth and letting the tender flesh spring back out, redder than before. They want to kiss so they do; after a moment their lips touch, it's merely a peck but Niall lingers. They press their faces close, noses against cheeks.

  
"Your nose is cold," says Harry. The silence shatters like an antique vase, even though there was noise there before. Niall leans back some, intaking air, sighing it out. Leaning forward again and there's another kiss, only this time they hold it for a bit longer. Never any kisses too deep. Those are for couples. Relationships.

  
They don't know what they are. They don't know what they have, not exactly. So butterfly kisses instead.

  
Niall's hands come up to hold either side of Harry's neck as he rests his forehead against the other boy's. Niall can feel it; Harry's eyebrows raise for no reason in particular, and then fall again.

  
 _Quiet, dear christ, finally_. Only calm and collected breathing exists to their ears now.

  
Niall blinks slowly, eyelashes brushing against the bridge of Harry's nose. He inhales noticeably again, louder and somewhat frustrated. He pulls back, only to lean sideways against Harry's left shoulder and clavicle, looking up at his jaw and chin. His eyes flicker, and then he's staring off into space, albeit just as lazily. His voice is a little rough from not talking, it wavers some, only soft enough for Harry to hear in his left ear. "I'm tired."

  
There's a momentary, understanding pause, Harry's large hand moving slowly over Niall's back. His palm is warm and comforting. Their closeness almost makes it all better. Almost. "Mmnknow."

  
Niall's eyelids fall closed without delay. His arms fold between his chest and Harry's torso as he situates his weight entirely against the man beneath him.

  
Harry leaves a kiss on Niall's forehead, sympathetic. Gentle, loving, fond.

  
And a large fraction of confused.


End file.
